Of Tiredness Taking Over

Me asleep

Me asleep

“When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.” – 1 Corinthians 13:11 (NIV).

This verse has been in my head lately, I first heard it on a mission trip. I then heard roughly seven sermons on the subject.

It inspired me in the following way.

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When I am tired, I look tired – the bags under my eyes gain a third grove and the soft skin darkens in color. Without makeup I look like a sickly patient just a few moments from death.

I conquer my exhaustion through fountains of caffeine. Coffee flows through my veins, pushing the blood aside as it pumps me full of energy. I take my makeup kit and begin to cover my flaws. First foundation, followed by spot covering blemishes with concealer, yellow goop to lighten the circles, flesh toned goop to even the tone, powder, mascara – I’m finished. But I still look tired. I’ll spend half the day checking the mirror trying to fix the bags under my eyes as makeup collects in the creases.

When I go to bed, I get distracted, despite how tired I’ve been throughout the day I watch Netflix, Hulu, On Demand. I listen to music, start cleaning, read a book. I start homework, procrastinate homework, and begin homework again.I fall asleep to Jimmy Fallon, Modern Family, or SNL. Silence makes my brain think, silence might let the nightmares return – let me dwell on the demons that have taunted my dreams for years.

When I wake up I’m still tired. I talk like a moody child, whine, and try to lift my head. I hit the alarm thirty times, roll out of bed and rush about to get ready to get ready for the day. If I had gotten up after the first ring I could have been on time. As it is – I’m late.

When I became a woman I got a little better, started to prioritize sleep, began to take naps. But my nightly routine was still a constant game of chicken against slumber. Regardless of who wins I end up the looser.

When I sleep I feel wonderful. But I still look tired. It doesn’t matter how much I sleep, or how bright and perky I feel. If it’s eight hours a night, daily nap, waking up naturally – I’ll always look tired. The bags under my eyes a constant physical mark of my years of abuse to my body, not letting myself sleep since birth.

I am a woman, but I’ve yet to put all of my childish ways behind me.

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